


Armor by Way of Drybrushing

by flibbertygigget



Series: The Other 51 [49]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Theatre, Coffee, Costume Designer Hercules, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Pre-Slash, Stage Manager Aaron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 05:59:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7745887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flibbertygigget/pseuds/flibbertygigget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hercules is a costume designer. Aaron is the stage manager who gets him coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Armor by Way of Drybrushing

Hercules rarely interacted with the other volunteers of Mount Vernon Theatre Guild outside of fittings and the occasional meeting with Washington to discuss the director's vision, and he liked it that way. He wasn't the kind of guy to get wrapped up in the drama that inevitably followed a bunch of unpaid divas. Why should he care that Alex and Tom were always fighting over the lead role in the latest production, or that their set builder Angelica had been caught making out with with their makeup and hair artist Maria? No, Hercules was content to sit in his little hideaway in the basement of Mount Vernon Theatre, sewing sequins to thirty identical leotards for the ensemble or constructing elaborate headdresses out of fake feathers, duct tape, and hope, talking to no one and only compensated by his name in the playbill.

The only person in the theatre that Hercules talked to on a regular, non-business basis was Aaron. In theory, Aaron was the stage manager, keeping the backstage area running smoothly and calling for people on their cues through a walkie-talkie. In practice, he was props-master, dramaturg, assistant director, line-reader, coffee-getter, and, often, the only sane person in the entire theatre group besides Hercules and maybe Washington. What this meant, of course, was that when Hercules found himself staying late again to drybrush the ensemble's armor Aaron was right there with him.

"So," Hercules said, putting another finished breastplate to the side, "how're things upstairs?"

"Busy," Aaron said. "John and Laf are apparently a thing now, thank God. I don't think anyone could stand the sexual tension in the tech booth any longer."

"How's Theodosia?" Aaron smiled at the mention of his daughter.

"Apparently she's doing well. She was cast as Eliza in her college's production of _My Fair Lady_. I'll be driving down to Princeton to see her next weekend."

"Thank God it's not on the same weekend as this Homeric mess," Hercules said. Aaron rolled his eyes.

"Tell me about it," he said. "If I have to hear Hamilton gloat one more time about how he got the part of Odysseus over Jefferson, I might just switch their roles."

"Can you even do that?" Hercules said.

"I don't know, but I'm annoyed enough to try," Aaron grumbled. Hercules hummed softly as they lapsed into silence. That was one of the reasons that he didn't actually mind Aaron coming down to his work area. The stage manager didn't feel the need to fill every moment with distracting chatter, content to let Hercules concentrate on his work when he needed to. It was nearly midnight when Hercules yawned.

"Ready to go home for the night?" Aaron said. Hercules looked at the pile of armor yet to be drybrushed and the corsets he still had to adjust.

"You can go," he said. "It should only take a few more hours." Aaron stood and stretched.

"Well, if we're going to be going at this any longer, I need coffee," he said. "Do you want any?"

"Um, a mocha if they have it," Hercules said, fumbling for his wallet, but by the time that he had it out Aaron had already disappeared up the stairs.

When Aaron came back with a large black coffee and a large mocha, ignoring the money that Hercules offered him and sitting back down to the gauntlets he had been working on, Hercules felt his face grow warm. He counted himself lucky that his complexion and the dim room didn't allow it to show.


End file.
